


Mr. Mom

by TUA (IAMS)



Series: I'm The Daddy Here! [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Gen, High School, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Number Five | The Boy Gets A Hug, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAMS/pseuds/TUA
Summary: Five buys a minivan and enrolls the children into the local public high school-he is absolutely not ready for the hour long PTA meetings, the report card nights and the frankly ridiculous amounts of shenanigans his kids get into.AU and sequel to "I'm the Daddy?" which I rec you read before jumping into this mess.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
Series: I'm The Daddy Here! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975414
Comments: 40
Kudos: 269





	Mr. Mom

Five doesn’t tell the children about his side project. 

He’d spent _countless hours_ scavenging for pieces of Graces’ memory chip and after finally gathering them all he’s not very optimistic about his chances of bringing her back to her previous operational self. Restoring the remnants of the chip will be work enough alone, he can’t even begin to fathom how he would go about building Grace a new, functional body on top of that. 

So Five decides to keep it to himself for the time being, not wanting to get the kids’ hopes up without justification. 

It’s difficult to keep it a secret, however, now that he finds himself the sole caretaker of five children (and one ghost child). He doesn’t have a lot of private time to himself these days. 

“Five! Diego’s cheating off my test!” Luther snitches, hand raised high up in the air. 

Diego glares at him. “I was not, shitheel!” he throws an eraser across the room, aiming for Luther’s head. Five manages to blink and catch it mid air before it can hit it’s intended target. 

Five sighs. 

Pogo’s been out of commission for about a month now, since the attack, which means Five has had to take over the childrens study lessons and it has been...brutal, to say the least. Five isn’t exactly the most _patient_ teacher in the world, and he’s starting to think at least two of his siblings need adderall. 

“It’s time for a break anyway,” Five announces, “Let’s turn our sheets over and wash up for lunch.” 

This induces a chorus of: “Yes Mr. Five.” 

With which Five is not amused by at all. 

Two weeks ago Five had finally decided enough was enough and hired a contractor to come and do repairs around the house-mainly in the kitchen, since the agents left it such an absolute disaster. Repairs are in progress currently, which means strangers coming in and out of the house at all hours of the day.

Five hates it. 

They eat lunch outside in the courtyard-it’s March now, thankfully, so the weather is a little nicer, though Five still insists the kids all wear their coats. 

He grades their papers while the children bicker over whose sandwich is whose from the bag of take out from the diner a few blocks down the road. Mentally, he begins to list all of the things he needs to get done this week, ignoring the background noise.

He needs to go grocery shopping, for one. Though they can’t cook with the kitchen in the state it’s in, he still needs to fill the pantry with snacks and the fridge with drinks and fresh deli meats and fruits. 

He needs to talk to the contractors, see how much longer they’ll be in his hair for. 

He needs to go back to the hospital at some point this week to get the cast around his arm looked at, but that can wait. 

He needs to put up a new schedule for practice on the board. 

He needs to come up with a lesson plan for History and Mathematics, since that’s what they’ll be focusing on this upcoming week. 

He needs to go back to the hardware store this weekend to look for a few missing pieces necessary for Graces’ input memory chip and then find some time to actually work on said chip. 

Five sighs-shit, he also needs to check in on Pogo. He stands up abruptly. “I’ll be back, don’t strangle each other.” he throws the comment over his shoulder before blinking into Pogo’s room.

Five was able to get Pogo off the ventilator about a week ago, and though he’s awake now, it’s a fragile thing. Most of the day he spends asleep. 

Five dons on a pair of black latex gloves and checks Pogos vitals, making sure the IV is still dripping fluids and doesn’t need to be changed yet. Pogo stirs, face scrunching up in discomfort, but doesn’t wake up. Five digs through the metal drawer on wheels he’s placed next to the bed and prepares an injection of morphine. Pogo is due for another dose right about now. 

Once he’s done changing the bedpan, adjusting his meds, and making sure everything is in place, Five crouches down to just stare at Pogo’s sleeping face for a long moment. 

“Hurry up and get better.” he mutters softly. 

The last month has been _hard_ on Five-if ever there were an understatement. He scoffs softly, and here he was, thinking raising the kids had been difficult before, when he’d had Grace and Pogo helping him. 

Now that he’s alone, though?

Five stands up, stretching out the kinks in his back and neck. Having a cast means he needs to wear the stupid sling that comes along with it, to hold his arm in place, to avoid further aggravating the injury. He wouldn’t mind it so much if it didn’t make his neck so stiff and sore. 

He blinks back to the courtyard, where the kids are almost done demolishing their food. “You’re not gonna eat?” Allison asks, when she sees him pick up the test papers. He hasn’t even touched his sandwich. 

“Later.” Five tucks the papers under his good arm. “The chore chart has been updated, so get to it. Try not to get in the way of the contractors, yeah?” 

Diego grumbles. “Why can’t you just hire someone to do all that crap? This chore thing was only supposed to be temporary.” 

“I read somewhere that doing chores builds character.” Five retorts easily.

“Where the hell’d you read that load of garbage?” 

“ _Somewhere_. Now stop stalling and go.” Five shoos them away. 

  
  


***************************************

  
  


“Ugh, toilets? Seriously?” Klaus groans. He hates toilet duty, and he knows there’s no way in hell any of his siblings would switch chores with him. 

Grudgingly he grabs the cleaning supplies from the closet and heads upstairs. The worst thing about living in a giant manor is the fact that there are about five different bathrooms that need cleaning. 

Ben watches Klaus scrub a toilet bowl with bleach from a comfy spot on the sink counter. 

Klaus glares at the ghost. “You know, you could _try_ helping.” 

“Benefits of being dead,” Ben shrugs. “My name doesn’t get put on the chore chart.” 

"Wow." 

*********************

Five used to think all the financials were taken care of automatically, even after Reginald's death, only to find out two weeks after Grace's...departure, that this was not so. 

Finding out no one paid the electricity or water while in the middle of a shower had been a not so pleasant eye opener for Five, who'd had to stumble out of the tub in the dark with shampoo still in his eyes to figure out what the hell was going on. 

The fact was that Pogo had been in charge of paying all of the bills the Hargreeves accumulated every single month. And with him out of commission temporarily those financial responsibilities for the household now fell solely on Fives shoulders. That, coupled with all the bills for the massive repairs the house needed came to quite a pretty penny. 

Five sits down in his late father's study and finally does what he's been dreading for the last few weeks. He looks into their finances and how much it is they actually pay a month and what time those payments are due every month. 

It feels as though he's got a million papers splayed out across the desk in front of him. Five has always been good with numbers, of course, so this should be a relatively easy task to deal with. The problem is he's never done this before. Money has never been a thing he's really had to think about. 

For years he lived in an apocalyptic wasteland; money hadn't really been a thing. 

And then for the two years when he did work for the Temps Commission he's ashamed to admit he has no idea what or even if they'd been paying him. In between missions they housed him in a shitty little studio apartment with the bare necessities and Five had never wanted for much besides a decent cup of joe and a place to sleep at the time. 

The Handler had given him a metallic card and told him whatever he needed he could get with a simple swipe of said card-he has to assume now that the card had been connected to a bank account with whatever funds he'd earned. But again, he'd been so focused on trying to get home he hadn't bothered figuring that out or inquiring about the finer details of how any of it worked. 

He hadn't used the card for much more than the occasional drink at a bar after or sometimes before a mission, coffee, and every now and again for food. Five hadn't ever had to concern himself with things like paying bills and making sure he knew where and how his money was being spent because he hadn't had much, truly. 

And now. Five sighs, running a tired hand through his hair. Now he has an abundance of bills-the property tax for the mansion alone is roughly two grand a month. The repairs? A fortune. And utilities alone range from two to three grand a month. 

Five squints his eyes. The kids need to stop leaving every goddamn light on in every single room, he thinks grouchily. 

All that isn't even mentioning how much food the kids go through per week-especially in the last month, since their kitchen has been under construction and they can't really cook, so they've had to order out so much. 

"Jesus Christ." Five starts to organize the bills from most urgent to least. It doesn't help that in his quest to fix Grace he's had to buy several extremely expensive pieces of hardware this past month. 

Fortunately Reginald was loaded-and it does help that the house was paid off in full at the time that his father had initially purchased it-but the money is still finite, which does mean it won't last forever, and Five has to take that into consideration for the future. 

Specifically when thinking about his siblings, and their futures. 

Five decides to contact a lawyer to help him legally divide a good chunk of the money into trust funds for each child, one that'll be available to them when they become adults. He realizes belatedly he's only creating more work for himself on top of everything else he's got going on at the moment, but dictates this too important not to put on his abundantly growing list of shit to do. 

After that headache inducing ordeal Five still has to show up to each block of practice he's had scheduled for the kids. 

3pm: Practicing distance and inanimate object rumoring with Allison. 

4pm: Accuracy and control with Luther. 

5pm: Sound waves via violin practice with Vanya. 

6pm: Stopping objects in motion with Diego. 

7pm: Summoning with Klaus and Ben. 

He's surprised Klaus had asked him specifically to join in the practice rotation suddenly one late afternoon last week. But he won't look a gift horse in the mouth. Five wants badly to help Klaus control his abilities; not so that he can go out and about gallivanting the town like some kind of comic book hero, but for his own mental sanity and safety. 

Five knows how tortured the kid is by the things he sees, these ghosts that refuse to leave him alone, no matter how much Klaus ignores them. He thinks what finally made Klaus break and ask for help was the night the lanky teen woke up screaming in the middle of the night, alerting the entire house of something not right. 

Five had blinked from his bed straight to Klaus' room on pure adrenaline and instinct alone, devastated to find the boy huddled in the corner of his room, hands clutching at the curls in his hair, sobbing hysterically into his knees. 

The other children had come running and they had stood by the door, unsure of what to do or what to say. Five had gently waved them away back to bed. "It's ok, I've got it." He'd assured them all, watching as one by one they'd hesitantly left to give Klaus some privacy. 

Five had huddled down in front of Klaus and made sure to announce his presence before placing a hand atop his knee. "You're ok, I'm right here Klaus, I won't let anything happen to you. You're safe, ok?" 

Klaus had looked up finally, tears in his eyes, and immediately hooked his arms around Fives neck and shoulders. It had jarred his broken arm but Five had managed not to make a single noise of discomfort. "Can I sleep with you tonight? I-I can't stay here. I can't." He'd begged brokenly. 

"Of course," Five had helped him up and Klaus had clung to him desperately the entire trip down the corridor to Fives room. "C'mon, in you go." Five had let Klaus get comfortable in his bed first before climbing in. 

Five hadn't been all that shocked when Klaus had curled into his side and wrapped one arm around Fives torso, as if afraid Five might disappear again. Klaus is taller than Five by about half an inch but that night he'd looked so small and it had made something in Five ache to see him so fragile. 

The next day after dinner Klaus had asked to be put on the schedule for practice from then on, his face one of determination. That had certainly shocked Five. 

It's a few minutes after seven o clock and Five is starting to think maybe Klaus changed his mind when he does actually show up. 

"Ready?" Five can practically feel how nervous Klaus is about all this; it's his first time "training" since before Reginald passed and it's obvious he's not looking forward to it in the least. 

"Not really," he shrugs. "but I don't know if I'll ever be, so..." 

Five understands the feeling. "Klaus, the second we do anything you're not comfortable doing you say the word and we'll stop. I swear." 

Klaus nods, chewing on his bottom lip. "Ok. I trust you." He says. 

That means a hell of a lot to Five, who's well aware that not all of the children do trust him-if ever they did to begin with. "Thank you. Alright, let's start small." 

***********************

The next morning Five is beyond exhausted. Too exhausted to deal with the fact that Diego and Luther are at each other's throats during lessons yet again. 

Until Diego flings a knife at Luther, that is, and in the blink of an eye Five is between the two boys, the blade pressed in his palm. "Hey!" He scolds, "What the hell did I say about using your powers against one another during arguments? Cut this shit out." 

"He started it!" Diego yells. 

Luther glares at him past Fives shoulder. "I didn't, but I can damn well end it!" 

"I said, _enough_!" Five grinds out. "Go to your rooms, both of you, now." 

Luther gapes at him, "That's not fair!" 

Diego scoffs, "Whatever." and shoves the textbook on his desk off of it and onto the floor before stomping out of the room. 

"I didn't do anything!" Luther insists. "I shouldn't get punished." 

Five can feel a migraine building steadily right behind his left eye ball. "Luther," he sighs out, "please, just, go to your room. We'll sort this out later. Take your textbook and study for the exam coming up on Friday." 

Huffing, Luther does as he's told. "Fine, but it's not fair." 

Once they're both gone only three children remain. Allison leans back in her seat and clears her throat. "Luther's right." She says. "Diego instigated and escalated that whole fight. If you'd been paying attention you'd know that." 

Five knows that. He knows he's been off his game-not that he was ever quite on it in the first place, but he's just got so much in his plate lately, and there's only so much one person can do on their own. But he's the adult here and he knows after all the bull crap his siblings have been through that "I'm sorry, I'm trying, it's just a lot and I'm kind of drowning here" isn't what they want to hear. 

"Five?" Vanya calls out when he's been quiet for much too long. "Are you ok?" 

And isn't that just the million dollar question. The short answer is: no. 

The long answer is: long. 

Five shakes it off and pushes his bangs from his forehead, "Sorry, sure, I'm fine. I'll talk to Luther and Diego after lunch." He turns back to the board and continues the lesson, unbeknownst to the various looks of concern and skepticism being traded behind him. 

*********************

It's towards the end of dinner that night, in the living room, that Allison makes an announcement, before they can all scatter. "So," she starts, "I wanted to call a family meeting, if that's ok." 

Five looks up, surprised. He'd told them all from the very beginning they could, if they so wished, call one at any time, of course, but this is the first time any of them have done so. And for the life of him, he can't imagine why. The last month and a half have been more or less quiet in the Umbrella academy-if one could call it that anymore. 

He realizes with a start that the children are all looking to him for some sort of permission, he can only assume. "Go ahead. We're all ears." 

Allison nods. "Well, we've been thinking." 

Five wants to ask who's "we" but refrains from interrupting her, as she has the floor. 

"You need to slow down." 

Five blinks. 

"You've been running on empty, Five. We're worried about you. Ever since…" Allison pauses briefly. "Ever since we left New York… You got stuck taking care of everything around here." 

Five shakes his head. "I didn't get 'stuck' doing anything, I _want_ to take care of you guys. Plus, all of you help out a lot by doing your chores." He assures them. "I'm fine. None of you need to worry." 

Vanya sits up, cross legged on the couch next to Klaus. "You've been zoning out a lot lately." 

"And you barely sleep." Luther adds. 

Klaus pipes in with, "Also coffee doesn't count as a meal." 

"And on top of all that you're still healing-not just from the broken forearm, but from like, a ton of other injuries you keep trying to pretend aren't a big deal." Allison folds her arms across her chest. "Have you even made a doctors appointment to go have your cast looked at?" 

Isn't _he_ supposed to be the "parent" here? Five can't help but think. "I will. Next week." He presses his lips together. "I've just been preoccupied lately, that's all." 

"You're putting too much on yourself." Luther retorts. 

"Luther's right," Klaus agrees, "you need to make some time for things like, ya know, eating and sleeping and maybe-novel concept, but hear me out-actually relaxing?" 

"Look, I get what you're all saying, really, I do." Five sighs. "But I'm fine, seriously." 

Diego, who's been fairly (oddly) silent up until this point, speaks. "You promised you wouldn't lie anymore." 

Five swallows hard. "I… I'm not, I just, I don't want you guys worrying about me. Look, sure, of course I get tired some days, but who doesn't? Overseeing the construction going on and going over lessons everyday, and practice in the afternoons, plus taking care of Pogo, getting acquainted with all the monthly bills-it's a lot right now, but only because it's all new to me still. I'll get in the groove of things soon and I'll be better at handling everything, I promise." 

"Five," Allison stares at him. "We aren't saying all this stuff because we think you should be doing a better job or whatever it is you think. All that stuff? It's a crazy workload for just _one_ person." 

Five pushes the pad of his thumb against the side of his eye where he can feel the migraine from earlier brewing again. "I'm by myself. I don't know what else to do." He blurts out without thinking. He hadn't meant to say that, to admit how alone he feels without Grace and Pogo.

Two months ago he could leave the house and count on the kids being safe, know that he had someone capable of watching them or to call him if anything went wrong. Two months ago he had someone-another "adult"-he could confide in when things got tough. Two months ago he didn't have the responsibility of taking care of everyone and everything totally on his shoulders _alone_. 

Allison bites her lip. "I was thinking maybe it'd be a little easier for you if we could take some stuff off your plate." 

Five raises a brow. "What do you mean?" 

"Well, practice, for example, I know you schedule them all seven days a week, per our request-" Allison remembers being one of the first to ask Five to let her practice as often as humanly possible, after what occurred in New York. She never wants to feel so powerless again in her life.

But it's been nearly two months of practice every single day-not just for her, but for most of her siblings, who she knows followed her lead and asked to practice on the daily instead of every other day or sporadically depending on their mood, the way they'd been doing it previously. 

"I don't mind that-" if it gives them peace of mind, then surely that's all that matters to Five. 

"For the time being I want to practice only on weekends." Allison interrupts quickly. 

The others all agree, voicing their preference for weekends as opposed to their daily practices. 

"Guys, you don't have to do this for me." Five is actually touched, if he's being honest with himself (a rare occurrence) but he doesn't want them sacrificing anything on his account. It's supposed to be the other way around. 

"We want to." Vanya says. "And um, we were thinking, about lessons? We know how hard you work to prepare lesson plans each week and grade all our work and stuff-it's a lot." 

"Look, practice I can understand, but I can't _not_ teach you; until Pogo is healed fully you all still need an education." Five reasons. He's grateful they're trying to unload some of his burden but he can't really see a way around this one. 

"You could send us to school." Allison suggests it in a way that is very casual but is clearly something she's been thinking about for a while now. 

"School?" Five repeats. Huh. He hadn't thought of that, hadn't really considered that an option up until now. 

Allison nods eagerly. "I think it would be good for us. I read that school is a great place to learn socialization and God knows some of us could use it." She pointedly looks over at Diego, who flips her the bird. 

Five mulls it over a moment. "What does everyone think about that?" 

"Um," Vanya leans forward a little. "I think I'd like to go." She's on a very low dose of paroxetine now that she's aware of her powers, in order to control what she hasn't quite learned how to master just yet.

She might ask Five, if it's decided they're allowed to attend school, for a slightly higher dose in the mornings so that no unfortunate incidents have a chance to occur, but otherwise she feels ok about the situation. And dare she think it? Even optimistic about the whole thing. 

"I'd like to try it, too." Luther agrees. "It'll be an interesting learning experience, if nothing else. Until Pogo gets better." 

Klaus shrugs. "I don't really care either way." He admits. "As long as I don't have to wear a stupid uniform I'm happy." 

"Same." Diego concurs halfheartedly. 

Five nods. "If you're all sure this is what you want, I guess I can start looking into schools in the area?" 

Allison grins, clapping her hands together, pleased her meeting was a success. "Great. I can help you look." 

**********************

Surprisingly enough it's not hard to pick a school for the children to attend. They all agree on William B. Lexington High School located in the downtown district. It has a little of what everyone wanted. 

The teachers and administrators all have great qualifications on paper. There are a variety of different after school clubs for the children to join if they so choose. And best of all no mandatory school uniforms. 

Five meets with the school principal, a woman named Mrs. Beatriz Gill and finds a way to explain to her his peculiar situation. 

She's heard of the Umbrella Academy, mostly in newspaper articles, she informed him, and so she is a bit concerned about how super powered children would do in school with their peers and teachers. 

"I understand your concerns," Five replies, "but the children don't use their abilities outside of missions, and since the passing of Sir Reginald Hargreeves a few months prior they no longer go on missions either. I'm sure you can imagine the challenging and sometimes odd upbringing they've had to endure for the last fourteen years. As their legal guardian I just want to do whatever is in my power to give them some sense of normalcy, even if it is a little late in their childhoods." 

Mrs. Gill is an understanding and best of all, a sympathetic person, and agrees that so long as the children don't use their abilities on school grounds they are permitted to attend William B. Lexington. 

"I do have a favor to ask of you." Five leans forward. "I would really appreciate it if you kept the fact that the children are the same ones from the Umbrella Academy between just us, if you don't mind." 

Outside of the public eye the kids are pretty unrecognizable without their standard masks and uniforms. And even on paper and tv interviews they've only ever been known by their pseudonyms and not the names Grace had carefully picked out for them a little over a year ago now. 

"Of course," Mrs. Gill agrees. "Mr. Hargreeves you have my utmost discretion." 

There are less than four months left in the school year at this point but technically this is all temporary anyway. Just until Pogo is back on his feet again-or at least that's how they're going about it for now. 

Mrs. Gill hands Five a sheet containing a list of things the children will need before their first day of school that upcoming Monday. "You have great timing actually," she smiles. "Last month we finished renovation on what is now our computer lab. It's a great class where we teach the children how to type and how to use new programs like Excel that they can put on their resumes later in the future. We have over thirty new computers and three new printers with color ink." 

Five half smiles at the enthusiasm dripping off the principal; it's obvious how proud she is of her school and the things they're doing. 

******************

He reads over the list of things he needs to get this weekend and multiplies that by five. Mrs. Gill had made a joke about how he must be looking forward to some alone time now that he wouldn't have five teenagers in the house for an entire eight consecutive hours. 

Five thinks about the time he spent alone in the apocalypse and can't say he's looking forward to having the house all to himself during the days. He pushes that thought away quickly.

He won't _really_ be alone, he thinks. Pogo is still there, even if he is asleep most of the day. And Grace is somewhere in the pieces of the chip he's collected. And, he rolls his eyes, there's of course the loud construction crew still working in the mansion at all hours of the day. 

The children are all waiting for him anxiously when he gets home. "So?" Allison asks. "How was it? Are we in?" 

Five nods. "You guys start Monday." He takes the folded up list out of his pocket, "We need to do a supply run first, though." 

The kids practically trip over each other reaching for the list. "Ooh," Klaus murmurs. "Lunch bags? They have bags for just like, lunch, specifically?" 

"We can bring our own lunch?" Luther asks.

Five shrugs. He probably should have asked. "I guess so." 

"Do they know who we are?" Diego asks, looking nervous. 

Five shakes his head. "I told the principal not to say anything. And I also promised her you guys wouldn't use your powers in school." That's something they'd all already discussed at length but Five thinks it bears repeating, knowing his siblings the way he does. 

"Is it nice?" Vanya wonders. 

"From what I saw." Five nods. "The principal got all excited about their new computer lab, so that's something to look forward to." 

"They have computers?" Allison awes. She's wanted to see what all the hubub was about since Dell computers became a big talk item. "With like, Internet and everything?" 

"And everything, yes." Five confirms. Reginald, for someone so tech savvy and advanced in the ways of their current time, had never much allowed for anything much of electronics in the house. Five, on the other hand, thinks the place is due for a little tune up. A computer would certainly be a good start. Maybe a laptop, he thinks. He's going to need somewhere to store Grace if he manages to bring her back, after all. 

The children talk excitedly among one another about school and shopping and computers and even lunch and how the hell that's supposed to work, and Five wonders if he's making the right decision by letting them attend school. 

He can't quite identify this feeling, as if something is being taken from him even though that's not the case at all. 

Right? 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! 🥰


End file.
